Twilight
by Asphodel22
Summary: Harry never wanted to pay the price for redemption, but he could not let injustice rule the world he had bought at so high a cost. In another world, Loki faces the consequences of his actions, but his final attempt to escape them may lead him to doom himself. When both their fates intertwine, nothing will ever be the same.
1. A court of law and little lies

X-over with Marvel's Thor/Avengers universe. Will be Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy/Loki.

This story is also published on AO3, where you can read it in its entirety. For the innocent eyes of FFnet readers, I have cut all the explicit scenes. Go to AO3 if you think you can handle them...

Warnings/Tags: MasterOfDeath!Harry, GodOfChaos!Loki, Nordic Myth, OdinYouFool, Don't fuck with the Norns, End of the World, Slavery, BDSM, Mpreg (sortof)

Oh, and slash. Lots of slash.

Also, this story has nothing whatsoever to do with vampires.

Enjoy.

* * *

 **Twilight**

 **Chapter 1**

 **A court of law and little lies**

The court room was packed with wizards and witches, and the low murmur of the discussing Wizengamot was drowned out by the noise. The green-eyed man who was bound to the chair in the middle of the room watched their antics with a condescending smirk. He had stretched his legs and leant back as if the heavy chains that bound his wrists and ankles didn't exist, and his contempt for the group of people who dared to judge him was more than plain.

Finally, the old witch in the middle slammed her hammer on the table, and the loud bang that followed quieted the room. 'Loki Laufeyson,' she said, standing up. 'You have been accused of being a Deatheater, of using Unforgivables, and of the torture and murder of twenty-six people. Is there anything more you have to say, before we announce the ruling?'

His smirk widened, and few in the room doubted that the glint in his eyes was madness. 'What I did, I did for a glorious cause! The only thing I regret is that I did not succeed.'

The eyes of the old witch turned cold, and her lips thinned in contempt. She raised her hands. 'Very well. The accused has been found guilty of all charges raised against him. In the view of the atrocities of his crimes, and his obvious lack of remorse, we have decided that he deserves no less than the highest punishment: Loki Laufeyson, with the power invested in us, we hereby sentence you to death. Until your sentence is carried out, you shall remain in Azkaban. This session is closed.' She once again slammed her hammer.

There was a movement among the spectators, and the witch, who had just sat down, looked up warily, almost resigned. 'Yes, your Grace?'

'Chief Warlock Marchbanks, I would like to offer the accused an opportunity to redeem himself.'

Marchbanks' lips formed a thin line, and she studied the black haired wizard who had stepped forward disapprovingly. 'Under the rights awarded to you by our ministry I cannot stop you, however, I would like you to consider who exactly it is you are offering such mercy to. This man does not deserve your compassion.'

'That is only for me to judge, and for him to refuse or accept.' Harry replied dispassionately. He turned to the man in the chair, who had been watching the proceedings with far more interest than he had paid to the rest of the trial.

'I give you this choice:' Harry said. 'Serve me, as a servant bound by magic, and you shall live.'

The man watched him for a moment, his smile gone now, before he lowered his head. 'I accept.'

Harry folded his hands in front of him. 'My Lady.'

With a grimace of distaste, Marchbanks gestured, and the chains that bound the prisoner disappeared. 'Kneel.' she said, her wand raised.

Loki hesitated only a moment, before he slowly stood and then sank to his knees in front of the other wizard. When he looked up, his face was expressionless. Marchbanks started chanting, and both wizards were briefly enveloped in light.

'You may take your slave now,' the head of the Wizengamot said, disgust clear in her words.

Harry pulled a set of black manacles and a collar out of his robes. 'Do you accept me as your Master?'

Loki swallowed, and for the first time there was something like fear in his eyes. 'I do.' he said hoarsely.

'Hold up your hands.'

His hands trembled, but he obeyed. Harry closed the manacles around his wrists. He raised the collar, and Loki tensed, but stayed where he was and lowered his head. As soon as the collar closed around his neck, he collapsed with a hoarse cry. He curled into himself, his fists balled and eyes closed, clearly in pain.

'Mister Potter, what is the meaning of this?' asked Marchbanks, incensed. 'While I have no say over what you do with your property, I do not appreciate such display in my courtroom!'

'I had not expected him to react this badly,' Harry said, crouching down next to the other man. He put a hand on his shoulder. 'Can you get up?'

The other man whispered something only Harry could hear, and Harry stood up. 'Get up, and follow me.'

Loki rose, shaking.

'I apologize, my Lady,' Harry said. 'I do not expect I will bother you again anytime soon.'

'I sincerely hope so,' the witch replied coldly. 'Please leave.'

Harry nodded, and left the courtroom with Loki following behind him. Outraged shouts accompanied them, and the Aurors had to step in when some of the spectators tried to attack them. Harry grabbed Loki and apparated as soon as they left the building.

They appeared in the entrance hall of a large manor, and the moment they materialized, Loki broke down and screamed, clawing at the collar around his neck.

Harry knelt down next to him and grabbed his hands, but the other man was much too strong for him. 'Stop it!' he said, and Loki obeyed with a cry, flattening his hands against the floor. Tears were streaming down his face.

'What is happening?' Harry asked. 'You did not tell me it would be like this.'

Loki gasped for breath. 'I'm sorry… Master.' He gritted his teeth as he said it. 'I'm fighting it, I can't help it. There is nothing to be done until… until I break.'

Harry looked at him with a worried frown. 'I do not want a mindless slave. I would have never agreed, had I known…'

Loki chuckled through the pain. 'Yes. Thus I did not tell you. Leave me. Put me in the dungeons if you must. This will pass. Do not worry; my mind has withstood greater insults.'

Harry picked him up and hesitated for a moment, before he opened a door at the side of the hall and carried him down the stairs behind it. 'How long will this last?'

Loki closed his eyes for a moment. 'Days, weeks, years? I do not know. I was not born to be a slave, you realize.'

'Years?' Harry repeated, horrified. 'I cannot let you be tortured like this for years!'

Loki chuckled again. 'It is but a beat of a mayfly's wings for me. But I shall endeavor to shorten the time, if you wish it, Master.'

Harry entered a stone room in the basement of the manor, and conjured a bed on which he placed Loki. After that he conjured restraints that bound the other man's wrists and ankles to the frame. 'Will that hold you? I do not want you to injure yourself.'

'Your wish will hold me.' Loki answered with a pained smile. 'Please, leave. Have your elven creatures watch over me. You do not have to see this.'

Harry hesitated a moment. 'Alright. If you need anything…'

Loki just shook his head. Harry lingered for a moment longer, but finally left the room and closed the door behind him.

Once his footsteps had faded, Loki screamed.

.

He must have lost consciousness at one point, for when he opened his eyes he woke to a blond man watching him. Loki could not help the feelings of shame and mortification that flooded him at the thought of a Midgardian seeing him this weak. Immediately, pain filled him again, reminding him that he should accept his Master's wishes as law.

'Are you thirsty?' the man asked once the pain had abated and Loki had stopped screaming. He did not seem fazed by what he had witnessed, and Loki reminded himself that this was a former Deatheater, who had undoubtedly seen worse things. What was his name again? Right, Lucius, the father of the younger blond. Somehow, that made it easier to accept the water from his hand.

Loki did not need food and water like the Midgardians did, he could survive for a long time without either. Nevertheless, the cold liquid was soothing.

'He sent you to watch?' he asked.

Lucius considered him with cold grey eyes. 'He sent me to help you,' he said finally.

Loki stared at him for a moment. He had not expected that. 'You cannot help me.'

The man smiled thinly. 'That remains to be seen. In lieu of convincing you to accept our Master, I shall enjoy your misery.'

Loki laughed, almost hysterically. The fear that gripped him was icy cold like the waters of Jotunheim. He knew there was no choice, had known that ever since Odin had declared his sentence, and yet… That did not change the fear. He knew he had made mistakes. He should have never attacked Midgard, even though it was a worthless realm that Odin had all but forgotten before he sent Thor into exile. He should not have attacked Jotunheim, and least of all Thor. The last was probably the worst of all his crimes in the Allfather's eyes. His mind had been clouded by rage, and now he was suffering for it.

'Do your worst,' he dared.

Lucius' smile made him shiver, because it was one he had seen many times on his own face. The man trailed a finger along Loki's face. 'Our Master would not permit my _worst_. He likes you pretty. Nevertheless, I shall endeavor to make a lasting impression.'


	2. Five months earlier

**Five months earlier**

The god of mischief wore a haughty smile as he was dragged before the court, in front of the man he had once called father. His heart clenched for a moment when his eyes fell upon the empty spot at the Allfather's side, where Frigga had once stood. He squashed the feeling ruthlessly. Perhaps it was good that she was gone. She had been the only soul that bound him to this place, the only one he had felt indebted to, despite everything. Now, the final threads had been cut. Loki felt nothing but contempt for the old man before him.

'We had planned to be lenient with you, despite your crimes…' the Allfather began.

Loki could not help himself, he laughed. Lenient? They had planned to imprison him for eternity in a little white cell, to throw away the key and forget him. If Frigga had not brought him books… She was gone now. Fear gripped him for a moment and he gasped for breath. Who would speak for him now? No-one. What would they do to him, unfettered in their malice?

One of the guards slammed an elbow in his side and he quieted, staring at the old man with hatred. He had killed his real father for this man, desperate for a love that was impossible. He had been blind, stupid. All he wanted now was to tear this place down, destroy their golden city, and smash their arrogance, until even the last of the Aesir understood what loss felt like.

Odin considered him for a moment, and his gaze hardened. 'You have tried to escape your punishment, and have once again tried to attack your King, and steal rights that do not belong to you.'

'You are not my King!' hissed Loki. 'Make up your mind, old man. Either I am your son, a prince of this realm, and have every right to claim the throne since Thor refused it, or I am nothing like that, and you have no right to judge me. Either way, this trial is a farce.' He spat on the floor.

'You have lost your right to the throne with your atrocious actions,' countered Odin. 'Your only way to redemption would have been to accept your punishment, but you could not even do that. As it is, we have no choice but to decide on a new punishment, something that will forever curb the danger that you represent for the realms.'

'You plan to execute me?'

'So that you can continue your mischief in the underworld, helped by your unnatural offspring? Certainly not.' Odin rose and raised Gungnir. The Infinity Gauntlet flew into his hand and the gems started to glow brightly. 'I call upon the Norns to seal your punishment; this geas I cast upon you: That you shall find a master to rule you within six Midgardian moon cycles, or be forever trapped in the cage of Skadi.'

Loki stared at Odin in horror as the magic he had summoned slammed into him and he could feel it turn and twist into his very self, until it was like a collar choking him, a collar bound to his very soul. While he thought this, a real collar and black manacles appeared in front of Odin and the Allfather grabbed them out of the air and held them out to him. 'When you have decided who your Master shall be, you only have to speak the words. He will put these on you, and they will ensure that your body, mind and magic obey him. The guards shall take you back to your cell to think. Decide wisely.'

Loki's fingers clasped the black metal. His hands were shaking. He could not believe Odin had done this.

Thor stepped forward, and Loki knew what he would say before he said it. It was all written in his face, the false compassion, the arrogant pity. 'Brother… if you would consider… I would take good care of you…'

'You!' screamed Loki, overwhelmed by rage. Undoubtedly this had been the Allfather's plan all along. What quaint revenge, turning the wayward trickster into Thor's slave. 'Never! I'd rather suffer Skadi's poison!'

He tore at his chains, and to his surprise, as well as the guards, they broke. Not questioning his luck, Loki slammed into them, turned invisible, and tore out of the hall before anyone could react. He raced towards the newly rebuild Bifrost. It did not surprise him that Heimdall waited for him when he arrived there, and his illusions faded. 'Tell them they will regret this!'

Heimdall raised his sword to prevent him from crossing, but Loki just laughed and turned into a falcon, flying over him too high to reach. He could feel Hugin and Munin following him, and beat his wings faster and faster, until he could see the vast emptiness between the realms below him. For a moment fear gripped him, but it soon hardened into resolve. He had done this once. He could do it again. He could find the paths he had once walked again. He turned back into his own form, hovering for a moment on the strength of his magic alone, and looked back to the golden spires of Asgard. He could see the boats coming after him, and grinned. They were slow, much too slow. 'I will see you at twilight,' he whispered maliciously. Then, he let himself fall into the abyss. Laughing.


	3. A rooster's crow, she whispers

**A rooster's crow, she whispers**

The next time Loki woke, it was in a white room, next to a woman whose face was hidden in the hood of her grey cloak. He did not need to see her face to know who she was. 'Hel, my beautiful daughter…' he whispered. 'Have I finally come to you?'

He tried to move, but could not.

'Not yet, father.' Hel pushed her hood back. Her single eye studied him. 'Not for a long time yet.'

Loki closed his eyes and swallowed. 'Thus I shall be free again to take my revenge.'

Hel turned to the side and her skeletal hand touched his hair. 'Is that why you bound yourself to him? Because you thought you would be free once he died? The Norns surely appreciate irony.' She sounded sad.

Loki kissed her dead fingers. 'What do you mean? Is that not true?'

'I do not know if it would be true had you bound yourself to a mortal,' she said with a sigh. 'As it is, the man you have bound yourself to is not mortal, even if he does not know it himself. You have bound yourself to the one soul that is untouchable, and thus, to the one being that will outlast everything in existence, even the Aesir. A true immortal. I'm sorry, father.' She smirked. 'Master of Death and Chaos, and he does not even know it. What were the Norns thinking, I wonder? Ragnarok is bound to be interesting, this time.'

Loki stared at her, reeling with this information. He could not comprehend that he had apparently enslaved himself _for eternity_. Even being bound to Thor would have been better, for he knew that Thor would one day perish at the hand of his son. 'This cannot be true.'

She watched him with pity. 'Have I ever lied to you?'

Loki shook his head, dazed. 'Is that my fate?' he asked with despair.

Hel smiled. 'We all are bound to fate. You may never be free, but have you ever been? This life may suit you better than your old one. One day, your Master will realize that he will never grow old. All he knows will perish, his friends, his family, his loved ones, until only you remain. What do you think will happen then?'

Loki shivered. He did not know Harry enough to foretell this. He had chosen the wizard because he seemed to be a kind and just man, but even the best men might be corrupted by abyss. 'You think I could hold him back if he chooses the path of destruction? _I_?' Loki laughed at the ridiculous thought.

Hel merely watched him. 'If you manage to draw back from that path yourself, who would be better suited for that task?'

' _If_ I manage.' Loki could not see it. 'Chaos and destruction are what I am.'

'Chaos is what you are, chaos and lies, not destruction. They have been confused for far too long.' Hel sighed. 'I shall give you a gift. I cannot undo what Odin has done. He has called upon the Norns themselves, and not even I can match their power. However, I can temper the curse. You will never fully submit to the spell, and now you shall not have to. You will have to obey in body and magic, but your mind shall remain free. It is both mine and our Master's wish, and so it shall be granted. Use it well.' Her lips, half red and luscious, half dead and rotten, kissed his forehead. 'Farewell, father. We shall see each other again at the end of times.'

'Hel!' Loki called out to her, but she was already fading. 'I love you, my child.'

His daughter smiled, and vanished.

Loki sobbed when he awoke. It was like losing her all over again. A hand stroked his hair, and he sat up and clung to the man without even looking who it was. Arms embraced him. Loki barely noticed that the restraints that had bound him were gone. 'Shush…' said a silky voice.

Loki took a shuddering breath. 'Why?' he whispered.

'I know loss.' Lucius replied. 'Accept it. Move past it.'

Loki pushed him back. 'I do not like to be vulnerable.' He was surprised at his own honesty.

Lucius nodded. 'Get used to it, because from now on, you will be vulnerable, you will be dependent, you will be powerless. Let your old life go, and you will see the opportunities that are still left to you.'

'As you have?' Loki asked spitefully, hoping to get a rise out of Lucius.

However, the blond man did not react to the challenge. 'As I have.'


	4. An assembly of the righteous

**An assembly of the righteous**

Loki crawled towards his new master, taking care to make his movements slow and languid, almost seductive. He would never be a truly submissive creature, but he could pretend.

Harry Potter was sitting on a throne… there was really no other name to call it, a huge, wing-backed chair standing on a dais… and the younger Malfoy was kneeling at his feet, studying Loki with a thoughtful gaze, his grey eyes half-lidded. There was a true submissive, oddly strong in his freely given surrender. Loki's eyes briefly flit to Lucius Malfoy, who was sitting on a chair to Potter's left, wondering.

'You will not use your magic without my _explicitly stated_ permission. You may use the one spell to hide yourself from Heimdall's eyes,' Potter said.

Loki bowed his head. 'Yes, Master.' He had expected nothing else, they had discussed this beforehand. This was only for confirmation and reassurance. Potter had told him what he wanted for his favor, and Loki had agreed.

'You will not try to escape.'

'Yes, Master.'

'You will not harm me or any I care about.'

'Yes, Master.'

'You will never lie to me, or try to deceive me.'

'Yes, Master.'

Loki smiled and looked at the eight men and women sitting left and right of Potter.

'From now on, I will precede any order with the words 'I order you'. If I don't, you may treat my words as a suggestion.'

'I understand.' Loki considered Potter. The spell would enforce orders, and punish him painfully for going against them. Up to this point, everything Potter said to him had required perfect obedience. With his last order, Potter had given him the freedom to disobey him.

'You will call me Master.'

'I will try.'

The dark-haired man on Potter's right chuckled. 'It's always the same, isn't it?'

Potter grinned. 'At least the smart ones get it immediately. I remember you did, Severus.'

'I believe I might have even said the same words.'

Loki studied the man curiously, then he smirked and bowed forward to kiss Potter's feet. 'You will find that I can be perfectly obedient if properly motivated, my Master.'

Potter was obviously amused. 'We will see.' He turned serious. 'I will tell you the same thing I told everyone else here. I do not believe in the ministry's brand of justice, this kangaroo court calling for death no matter the crime. I do however believe that crimes deserve to be punished. The crimes you were sentenced for were fake, but we all know that there are crimes you committed that are very real. You nearly destroyed a whole muggle city and killed several hundred people in the process. Do you deny that you are guilty of that crime?'

Loki leant back on his heels. 'Of course not.'

'Do you deny that you should be punished for it?'

Loki trailed his finger over the black manacles around his wrists. 'I believe I have already been punished. That being said, maybe for you that was a crime, but for me it was merely collateral damage of my bid to claim this planet as my fief. My brother has killed far more for less. As a matter of fact I could name a dozen Aesir who have killed more for less. I question your right to judge me.'

'As your master I have every right to judge you,' Potter said with a bored undertone. 'However, we will consider your words in your defense, as they are obviously the truth as you believe it.'

Loki moved back, slightly surprised. He had not considered this advantage of Potter's order. 'I may defend myself?' he asked, a little bit unsure.

'Of course. You are _supposed_ to defend yourself. We cannot pass true judgment without true understanding, now can we?'

Loki considered that. 'Many years ago the Aesir battled with the Jotnar for control over this realm,' he said. 'The Aesir won this battle, and their king Odin stole me from my true family to raise me in ignorance, believing myself to be his own son. When I found out I was angry. I wanted to claim Midgard, because…' He hesitated. There was a pain in his chest that slowly increased. 'One of the reasons why I wanted to claim Midgard,' he corrected himself, 'was that I wanted to achieve what my true father had not. I wanted to show Odin that his plot had failed.'

'It seems to me that this was only a minor reason,' said the dark-haired man.

Loki glared at him. 'I also wanted it because my brother Thor cherishes this realm so much. I wanted to claim it to hurt him.'

'I notice that you still call him brother,' a brown-haired witch sitting next to the elder Malfoy remarked.

Loki clenched his fists. 'We grew up together; it is a habit that is hard to break.'

'If I understand this right, Odin denounced you as a son, and your true father never claimed you,' a red-haired man said. 'What right do you have to make a bid for this realm?'

'Odin never denounced me. In fact, he explicitly said that I only lost my right to the throne of Asgard because of my actions on Midgard. I wonder, however, if he would have said the same had I succeeded.' It was something he really wondered, Loki thought bitterly. If he had succeeded, would the Allfather have welcomed him back? Or would he have ignored his achievements, like he had many times before? Loki had once paid with his voice for Mjölnir, Draupnir and Gungnir, and Odin had never even thanked him, in fact he had done nothing to stop the dwarfs from enacting their revenge. He had never thanked him for Sleipnir either, not that he had ever treated Sleipnir like anything other than a horse. Most likely he would have taken Midgard away from him as soon as he had gained it, and let Thor do whatever he wanted to do in retribution. He had been a fool to even try, but rage had consumed him, and Thanos had been very convincing. 'Thanos, the leader of the Chitauri, convinced me that I could easily take Midgard with his help.'

'Thanos,' Potter whispered, suddenly looking at him with an intense gaze that didn't seem to be entirely him. Something old and primordial lurked behind his eyes, and Loki involuntarily shivered. 'You did not tell me that you had contact with Thanos.'

'He is biding his time, planning to destroy the universe to impress his lover; in other words he is completely insane, but he was useful to me. What is it to you?'

'Did he try to compel you?'

'I am a god!' shouted Loki angrily, enraged and disconcerted by the accusation. 'He did not try. He did not have to.'

Potter raised his hand. 'I had to ask.' He traded looks with the people sitting next to him.

'He is guilty,' the red-haired man said. 'He admits it. No matter his motives, he killed those people without remorse.'

'It was a war to which he had a right as Odin's son,' Lucius argued. 'These people were victims of war. That is not the same as murder.'

'And yet, he started this war out of greed,' the brunette witch said.

'Are we charging him with reckless endangerment?' the younger Malfoy asked.

'You cannot be serious,' the redhead said. 'This was clearly murder.'

'I don't think that's so clear, Ron,' Potter said. 'Who of you is in favor of charging him with murder?'

The brunette witch and the black-haired man raised their hands, as well as the redhead and the large, blond man sitting next to him.

'Five to four against,' Potter said.

'You have to be kidding me,' the redhead mumbled. 'Luna, what the hell?'

'He has pretty eyes,' the blonde witch sitting next to the brunette answered dreamily. 'The wrackspurts like him.'

The redhead groaned and let his head thump against the back of his chair.

'He still directed attacks against civilians, which is a war crime,' the brunette said.

'The only civilians I attacked were scientists, and all of them survived.'

The brunette frowned. 'That cannot possibly be true.'

'It very well might be, Mrs. Weasley.' Lucius seemed to enjoy this. 'All the deaths seem to have occurred during fighting between Loki's forces and muggle military.'

Mrs. Weasley pressed her lips together and looked at Potter. 'Do you agree with this?'

'Well, he gravely injured at least one person who was a civilian, and mind-controlled several others, which would be equivalent to the use of the Imperius curse.'

'I have to disagree,' the black-haired man said. 'The use of artifacts or potions for mind control is not equivalent to the Imperius curse. It is traditionally judged on a case by case basis dependent on the harm done.'

'He compelled them to aid in the mass destruction of a city!' the redhead said angrily.

'True…' Potter said pensively. 'However, _they_ were not hurt.'

'This is bullshit,' the blond man said, leaning forward. 'Even if all the deaths are collateral damage, it is still reckless endangerment, if not manslaughter, and the mind control did certainly do serious harm, if only mentally. He tried to kill at least one muggle, which is attempted murder, and he ripped out the eye of another, if that's not an infliction of grievous bodily harm I don't know what is. There is no way this guy is not guilty.'

'I never said he was not guilty, I only want to be clear about what he is guilty of. Nice summary, Neville. Can we agree on that?'

'I contest the manslaughter,' Lucius said, smiling. 'It implies intent.'

'Involuntary manslaughter, then,' the redhead said through gritted teeth.

Lucius just nodded.

'Again, can we agree on that?'

All of them raised their hands. 'Then it's unanimous.' Potter looked at Loki. 'What do you say?'

Loki felt tempted to laugh. 'This is all very entertaining, but I don't know what the purpose of it is. I have already been convicted.'

'Do you agree that you are guilty of those charges?'

He thought about it, and felt still the temptation to laugh. Involuntary manslaughter? Voluntary extermination of ants was more like it. However, if he agreed that these were people he endangered and killed without specific intent that might well be true. He had not planned to kill them, he simply had not cared if they survived or not. 'I agree.'

'Then what would be the appropriate sentence?'

'Considering the amount of victims, I would expect at least twenty-five years for the manslaughter charge alone', a black-haired witch said, who had been silent until now. 'The mind control is somewhat ambiguous, as Severus said. It might well be waved, as has happened with Amortentia before. However, the harm done to the civilians should add another fifteen years.'

'I concur,' Mrs. Weasley said.

'As do I,' said the older blonde witch who sat next to the dreamy one.

'Forty years?' Potter asked. 'Is that what we agree on?'

One after another, they all nodded.

'In a functioning society, this would be forty years in Azkaban,' Potter said. 'However, as you pointed out, you have already been convicted. In addition, your punishment was issued not for the charges we brought against you, but treason, which has nothing to do with us. This means, however, that your condition will not count against your punishment. Take Lucius, for example. He was sentenced to twenty-five years, but we took ten years off of that sentence, because he will never be truly free. We will not do the same for you. So this is the choice you have: You can spend forty years in prison, or you can serve me as a slave for the same time. After that, you will be no longer required to act as a servant, and although you will always have to obey me due to the spell, I will not give you orders, and try to give you as much freedom as possible. What do you say?'

Forty years were nothing for Loki, and he briefly imagined spending that time in a tiny cell. He would sleep, and the time would pass before he noticed it. However, he remembered his daughter's words – he would never be free, no matter what Potter promised. Also, he would miss the actions of this amusing band of people, who were without doubt up to some interesting things. Could he be a servant instead? He had been many things in his long life, and this might be a role which could still entertain him. It would allow him to wreak havoc among this merry group, since Potter had never said anything about lying to and manipulating his friends… He would certainly not be bored.

Loki held out his hands and bowed theatrically. 'I will serve you to the best of my abilities, my Master.'

'He will be worse than the twins ever were, you realize,' said the redhead, standing up. 'Worse than the Marauders, even.'

The black-haired man sneered. 'He can try.'

'We can use some entertainment.' Potter said. 'Draco.'

The blond rose and beckoned Loki. 'Come with me.'


	5. Sunlight on a broken column

**Sunlight on a broken column**

 _Once upon a time in Hogwarts_

Harry walked up the stairs to the Astronomy tower, and tucked the Marauders' map back into his pocket before he opened the door.

Draco Malfoy was sitting at the edge of the platform, his eyes fixed on the forbidden forest. He tensed when the door opened and Harry stepped onto the platform. 'What do you want, Potter?'

'How did you know it was me?' Harry asked, astonished. He took off his invisibility cloak.

Malfoy turned around and sneered. 'I would recognize your bumbling steps anywhere, golden boy. Have you come to finish what you started?'

'No!' Harry gulped. 'I came to apologize.'

Malfoy laughed. 'Really? Saint Potter needs my forgiveness to be able to face himself in the mirror, is that it? Well, _not granted_ , fool. Get lost.'

'Let me help you,' Harry said desperately. He was not really sure why this was so important to him. In a way, Draco was right; he could not live with what he had done. He had almost killed another person, not in self-defense, but because he was an idiot who used spells without knowing what they did. He had to do something to make it right.

'Help me?' Draco laughed again, but there was a slightly hysterical edge to his voice. 'You can't help me. No-one can.'

'Then let me make it up to you,' Harry pleaded. 'Just tell me what you want me to do.'

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again. His eyes narrowed. 'I will consider it. Now _go away_.'

Harry nodded. When he trudged back down the seemingly endless stairs, he felt incredibly happy, although he had not really accomplished anything. Maybe, he thought, this would be the beginning of something. What, he did not know, but he had a feeling it would be amazing. He did not think about that too much, because if he had, he would have thought himself insane.

.

Harry clutched the note in his fingers, hoping that this had not been one of Malfoy's plots to get him into trouble. It was long past curfew, and the seventh floor was empty. Suddenly, the air shimmered and Malfoy appeared. He had used a disillusionment charm. His face was cold and unreadable. He held out a book which was open in the middle.

'Before we do this, I want some guarantees that you won't tell tales. Also, I know you are abysmal at occlumency, and this could ruin me.'

Harry looked at the book. The opened page described a ritual for keeping secrets, which apparently ensured that the people involved in the ritual would not betray it.

Malfoy drew a dagger and made a shallow cut on his hand, then held it out to him. Harry hesitated for a moment, but then he copied the action. Malfoy clasped his hand, mixing their blood, and drew his wand, placing the tip on their joint hands. Harry put the book in his pocket and did the same.

'Repeat after me:' Malfoy said. 'I will tell no-one of these meetings. I will tell no-one what happens in this room between us. It will be our secret.'

Harry gulped. This was dangerous. What if Malfoy planned to harm him? However, he had promised to make it up to him… He made his decision and repeated the words.

A shimmering line of light wrapped around their joined hands and disappeared. Malfoy smirked, and Harry felt unsettled.

'How very brave you are,' Malfoy mocked. 'Well, come on in, then.'

The door to the room of requirement appeared and Harry followed Malfoy inside.

When the door closed behind him and he saw the room he froze, and seriously hoped that this was Malfoy's idea of a joke. In the middle of the room was a St. Andrew's cross, and the shelves on the walls were filled with whips and other implements whose purpose he would rather not know.

Malfoy pulled his robe over his head. 'Tell me, have you ever fucked a man, Potter?'

'What?' Harry squeaked. He could not be serious.

Malfoy studied him with malicious glee. He took off his shirt, and Harry's eyes we're unwillingly drawn to the ugly red scar that crossed his chest. Aside from that, he also could not help but notice that Malfoy was outrageously fit for someone who had given up quidditch and had hardly eaten one full meal since the beginning of the school year.

'You probably wonder what I was up to all this time,' Malfoy said conversationally, loosening his belt while he was talking. 'Truth is, the Dark Lord has ordered me to kill Dumbledore. If I don't, he will kill my parents. As a matter of fact, he has tortured my mother every time I failed.'

' _What_?' Harry said again, rather stupidly. Then he suddenly realized what Malfoy was telling him. 'It was you!' he shouted angrily. 'You almost killed Katie! And Ron!'

'Not on purpose. My target was always Dumbledore.'

'As if that makes it better!'

Malfoy studied him for a moment, and then shrugged. 'I suppose it doesn't.' He took off his trousers.

Harry's eyes finally also noticed something else, the black Dark Mark on Malfoy's left forearm.

'I was right about you!' he hissed.

Malfoy clapped contemptuously. 'You were, but no-one believed you. And now you can't tell anyone that you had a really good reason for trying to kill me.'

Harry sobered. 'No, I hadn't. Even if I had known then what I do know now that would not have made it right.'

Malfoy leant against the wall and toed off his boots. He was only wearing shorts now, and it was utterly distracting, and keeping Harry from feeling the righteous anger he so richly deserved. 'I suppose that means you still want to make it up to me.' Malfoy smirked. 'I'm not surprised. You are a Gryffindor, after all. So, Gryffindor poster boy, _be brave_ , and answer my question. Judging from your looks the answer is probably yes.'

'Wh…' Harry interrupted himself and felt blood rush to his face. 'No, I haven't! What kind of question is that? Wait, does that mean you are gay?'

Malfoy rolled his eyes. 'Potter, you are truly the densest bloke I have ever had the misfortune of meeting, and that's saying something, considering I grew up with Crabbe and Goyle. Yes, I'm gay, and you can't tell anyone about that, either. Life is a bitch, isn't it? Think about all the jokes Weasley and you will miss out on.'

'I wouldn't have joked about it!' Harry protested. However, if he was honest, he probably would have if he had found out another way. Malfoy was just such a ponce. He winced. A year ago he certainly would have, but that was before he had met Marc over the summer. After Sirius' death, he had walked around a lot in Little Whinging, and he had found a little alternative bookstore that also had a computer room. He had stayed there for some time, because Dudley and his gang would have never set foot in it, and Marc had explained the computers to him. Harry had really liked him, but when Marc had tried to kiss him one day he had balked. He had never thought that he could be attracted to other men before that moment, and even then it took a number of days of denial before he admitted to himself that he had felt something for Marc. Unfortunately, by then, the summer break was over, and he had never seen him again. He could certainly admit to himself that he thought Draco Malfoy was attractive, in an utterly shallow, lust-based kind of way. 'Are you saying that you want to fuck me? Forget about that. I'm not that desperate!'

A brief expression of hurt crossed Malfoy's face, and Harry suddenly felt like a tool. 'I did not mean it that way… Look, I think you are attractive, but I'm not going to let you fuck me because I made a mistake.'

'You _are_ gay,' Malfoy said with glee.

Harry winced. 'Bisexual actually, and you can't tell anyone about it. Isn't life a bitch?' he said.

Malfoy laughed. A genuine laugh, and Harry was astonished how much that transformed him. He suddenly felt heat pooling in his belly, and quickly thought of Snape in a dress. He would not give Malfoy the satisfaction.

The blond smirked. He had obviously noticed. He took off his shorts and grinned at Harry's stare. 'Relax, Potter, I don't want your virgin ass. I'm merely telling you that I would not mind if _you_ wanted to fuck _me_.'

Harry gaped at him.

Malfoy turned away and looked at the St. Andrew's cross. 'With all the trying to kill someone and almost being killed myself life has been very stressful recently, as you can surely understand. I need something to help me relax, but it has been difficult to get what I need… Fortunately for me, you volunteered.'

'Volunteered for what?' Harry asked, finally getting annoyed with Malfoy's game. 'Say what the hell you want from me!'

Malfoy walked over to one of the shelves and took a dark brown leather thing from it, which looked like a strap that had been cut in the middle so that it had two tails. He came back to Harry and held it out to him. 'I want you to hit me.'

Harry took the strap uncomprehendingly. 'Why?'

'Because it helps me relax.' Malfoy stepped towards the cross and placed his hands on the beams. 'I don't have to spell everything out to you, I hope.'

Harry stared at him. He looked at the smooth, white skin and imagined the welts the strap would raise on it. It was tempting, so very tempting… But it also felt wrong. 'I want to make it up to you that I hurt you, and you want me to hurt you more?'

'Yes.' Malfoy sounded impatient. 'What's the big deal? You hate me, don't you? I just told you, I'm a Death Eater, I'm trying to kill Dumbledore. This should be easy for you.'

'I don't hate you,' Harry said, and surprised himself with the truth of these words.

Malfoy turned around and studied him. 'Well, you should. You want to make it up to me, I just told you how. If you can't do it, leave.'

Harry felt anger rise in him at the challenge. 'Watch me.' He grabbed the braided end of the strap and weighed it in his hand.

Malfoy turned away and visibly braced himself. 'That's more like it. I started thinking you're not cut out for this.'

Harry hit him, and Malfoy flinched and finally shut up. A red welt blossomed across his back, just as beautiful as he had imagined. He deserved this, Harry thought. It felt right. He hit him again, and, as an afterthought, cast 'Incarcerus' to bind his hands to the cross. Malfoy did not protest. The git probably enjoyed it. He hit him again, harder this time, and relished in the gasp that tore from the blond. He continued until Malfoy's whole back and the back of his legs were tinted red, and one lash broke the skin and drew blood. Malfoy never asked him to stop. If he had, Harry would have stopped, but as he didn't, Harry knew he wanted it, even though he was screaming in pain. It was exhilarating.

-continue reading this scene on AO3-

When he was back in his dorm Harry lay awake in his bed and tried to make sense of what happened. It scared him how much he had enjoyed hurting Malfoy, but the other man had wanted it, so it couldn't be that bad, right? Right. It was probably the first stirring of madness and soon he would be an utter nutter like Lestrange. Or maybe he was already crazy like a bag of cats, but if he was, Malfoy was, too. He got off on being beaten, for Christ's sake. Harry shuddered. All he could think about was that he wanted to do it again, and that he did not regret it. Not one bit. Maybe the only way to deal with this kind of crazy was to embrace it. It sounded good to him.

.

Harry was at the same time surprised and not surprised when Malfoy slipped him a note telling him to meet him again. He refused to admit to himself how eager he was to repeat their last experience. When Ron asked him if something was up, he realized he was not as good at hiding his anticipation as he had thought, and when he looked around to the Slytherin table he met Malfoy's knowing smirk. Harry narrowed his eyes. He looked forward to making this smirk disappear.

This time, Malfoy was already waiting for him in the room, and he was completely naked.

'Don't you worry that someone else might surprise you?' Harry said a bit irritated. 'You never know, I might have brought company.'

Malfoy chuckled. 'How surprisingly kinky your near-virgin mind is, Potter. What a lovely surprise. Your mudblood friends would be scandalized if they knew.'

'Shut up.'

Malfoy grinned. 'Make me.'

.

They never actually talked much about it, they just continued meeting, and Harry tried whatever implements in the room caught his fancy. Malfoy never complained. On the contrary, he became more and more pliant as time went on, and easily did whatever Harry told him to do. Harry enjoyed it in a way he had never before enjoyed anything before. With Malfoy, he could channel all his frustration and his rage into something cathartic, without any regret. It was easy because Malfoy obviously craved the pain and humiliation. Sometimes he asked himself why. Malfoy only mocked him when he asked him, so he stopped trying to get answers from him. Nevertheless, he had started to see him differently. He even started to like him. Then, one day, Malfoy told him that he had found a way to bring Death Eaters into the castle, and that there would be an attack soon.

'Why are you telling me this?' Harry said angrily. 'I can't do anything about it, because of your stupid spell!'

Malfoy just shrugged. 'Maybe I enjoy your helpless anger. You look so pretty when you are angry.'

Harry flogged him bloody and then left him lying on the floor.

The next day, Dumbledore called him to tell him he had found a Horcrux. He gave his friends his Felix Felicis just in case, and it went downhill from there.

Later, when they were on the run und he was looking for groceries in a muggle town, he found a small store that sold some of the items he had used on Malfoy in the room. He had been using back alleys just in case snatchers were around, and he was taking his time because Ron and Hermione were constantly arguing. The sight of the store was both intriguing and intimidating, and after looking at it for a while he gathered his courage and went in. It was full of things he had never seen before, some which he would have liked to try on Malfoy, and some that scared or confused him. The store clerk, a dark haired young man with numerous tattoos and piercings, watched him while he was browsing, and seemed amused when he finally picked up some books.

'I'm new to this,' Harry said to explain himself, and immediately blushed.

The clerk smiled, but did not mock him. 'You will only know if you like it if you try it,' he said with a smile.

Harry bit his lip. Just leafing through the books and magazines had told him there was a whole culture around what Malfoy and he had done, and he knew nothing about it. 'I did…' he confessed. 'I just didn't really know what I was doing.'

The black-haired man frowned. 'That can be quite dangerous, dear. I hope no-one was hurt.'

'No… at least not more than they wanted to be.' Harry said it with conviction, but after he had said it, he suddenly felt doubts. Would Malfoy have told him if he was truly hurt? Did he really know what he was doing? He had seemed utterly confident, but he had never told him that there were other people doing these things, that there were rules to it.

The clerk looked at him thoughtfully. Finally, he leant his head to the side and grinned. 'You know what? I like you. You have this intriguing vibe about you. If you are really interested in learning more about this, there is a little club downtown. It's open Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Come by, and there will be someone to show you the ropes.' He kissed two black manicured fingers, grinned, and handed him a card together with his purchases.

Harry took the card and thanked him, but he didn't plan on going there. They were on the run after all, and he could not afford such distractions or delays.

Time went on, and they made little to no progress with finding Horcruxes. Harry started reading the books, which he had shrunken to hide them from Ron and Hermione, because awkward questions were the last thing they needed with all the tension between them (or maybe it was just because he was embarrassed).

He learned that muggles thought that what he and Malfoy had done needed trust between the two parties involved, and that there were such things as negotiations and safe words. He learned that there were places to hit someone that were safe, and others where even a weak blow could cause serious injury. And he learned that men were supposed to use lube when they had sex – and why had Malfoy not ever told him this? He had always been slick after the first time, and Harry assumed now that he had prepared himself or had used a spell, but that first time he had probably really hurt him, and he had never said anything. Had he thought he had done it on purpose? How fucked up was that?

One day Hermione and Ron were arguing again, and he told them he would go looking for supplies, which they hardly acknowledged. He was sure they would not miss him if he was gone for a few hours, so after he got the supplies they needed he apparated to the place on the store clerk's card.

It was another back alley, and an unassuming door which he would have never noticed if he had not had the address. The bouncer let him in when he showed him the card and told him where he got it. He met the store clerk in the entrance hall, who greeted him with a wide grin and told him that his name was Stefan. He explained to Harry that the club was a place where gay men 'with an alternative lifestyle' could meet and play. There were only a handful of people in the club when Harry arrived, and he had the feeling they were all looking at him. He tried his best to hide how insecure he felt, but Stefan noticed it anyway, and he introduced him to the other men. Stefan knew everyone, and Harry soon found out that he was one of the owners of the club. He was very upbeat and easygoing, knew stories about everyone, and told them with a wink and a laugh. It helped Harry to feel at ease, and he was quickly included in conversations when the other men realized Stefan liked him. He would have been tempted to lie about his inexperience, but it was the first thing Stefan told everyone about him, and although it was embarrassing he was in the end happy that he had. He had thought he would be ridiculed for it; instead, the men gave him advice and even offered to play with him to teach him 'a thing or two'. He took them up on it.

Hermione and Ron occasionally wondered where he went, but they accepted his explanation that he needed some air, and trusted him to be careful. In a world where everything felt out of control, the club became Harry's sanctuary.

It was odd to see Malfoy again after all this time when they were finally caught by snatchers. Harry was surprised that he did not identify them, since he was absolutely sure that he had recognized him. Malfoy looked sick and desperate, and he could admit now that he felt compassion for him. In a twisted way, Malfoy had always tried to do what he thought was right, but he constantly failed. Harry could tell that he wanted to help them, but he was too afraid to act – and yet, he risked his life and that of his parents by lying. Harry pitied him, and he wanted to help him. That was the explanation he told himself later when he asked himself why he slipped Malfoy the card of the club when he came to the dungeons to bring Griphook to Bellatrix. But if he was honest, he only wanted to see him again.

It did not work, however. After Dobby's death, he did not have any chance to leave on his own. The next time he saw Malfoy, it was at Hogwarts, where he tried to deliver him to Voldemort.

This made it all the more surprising when Malfoy asked for him after he was imprisoned.


	6. Things that fall apart

**Things that fall apart**

The blond rose and beckoned Loki. 'Come with me.'

'Wait,' Lucius said. 'You are going to use him as another concubine?'

Potter smiled. 'He has some unique abilities.'

Loki froze and stared at them. ' _What_? That was not part of our deal!' Draco tugged at his arm, but he ignored him.

'It is now,' Potter said coldly. 'You will not use your superior strength against Draco, ever. That is an order. And you will obey him as you do me. That is also an order.'

'No!' Draco pulled him away and Loki struggled weakly against him. 'No!'

'Stop this nonsense,' Draco hissed. 'We won't hurt you.'

Loki let himself be dragged out of the room and into a set of chambers that had to be Potter's. The furniture was rich and lavish, and Draco dragged him down on a thick red cushion that sat in front of a row of mahogany bookcases and next to a fireplace. He studied him for a few moments.

'What is it you are afraid of?' he asked finally. 'According to legend, you have slept with many people, immortal and human, male and female.'

Loki moved away from the boy, but did not leave the cushion. 'Is this what I'm supposed to become?' he hissed with disgust. 'A pet?'

Draco leant back into the cushion, which was very thick and soft and tempted to lean into it, but Loki refused to be swayed. 'It is what I prefer.' He stroked his hand over the velvet fabric. 'I enjoy being cared for.'

Loki wrapped his hands around his knees. 'And to how many years of this have you been sentenced?'

Draco shook his head. 'None. I was pardoned. I choose this because I want it. It made it easier in the beginning to pretend… but by now everyone knows.'

'Alas, it does not bother you that I did not choose likewise, yet I am forced to obey.'

'You chose servitude,' Draco argued. 'You can still choose otherwise. You can always choose otherwise, but I ask you not to.'

Loki stilled, considering this. He had not realized that he still had that choice. 'I can always choose prison?'

'Always.' Draco threw him a sad look. 'Is the thought to sleep with us really that horrible?'

Loki closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he had last lain with someone, and that someone had been Sigyn. Draco was right, once he had been happy to partake in carnal pleasures. But then…

'I can't do this,' he whispered. 'I'm sorry, I can't. Anything but this.'

Draco said nothing, and when Loki opened his eyes he saw that he had turned away and his face was twisted in grief. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, but when he opened them they were wet with tears. Loki frowned, touching his shoulder. 'Why?'

Draco just shook his head. 'It is me who is sorry. I shouldn't have talked Harry into this. You don't have to… I will speak to him.'

He started to get up. Loki grasped his hand. 'No… wait. Explain this to me. Why are you crying?'

Draco closed his eyes again and smiled bitterly. 'My selfish desires brought you here, and they are more selfish than you think. I realize now that what I planned to do was foolish and cruel. I don't know what I thought… in all those stories you always seemed so indifferent; I really thought you would just go along with it. Stupid… I was just lying to myself.'

'Going along with what?' Loki asked suspiciously. There was more to it than just sleeping with them, he felt it. Why else would he talk about him specifically?

'Carrying our child.'

Loki jerked back and nearly hit his head against the wall. Fear ripped through him. 'I can't sire any more children.'

Draco looked down. 'That was not what I was talking about.'

He frowned, his heart still beating rapidly. 'I don't understand.'

'Your magic… I was hoping…' Draco swallowed. 'Harry needs children, and I can't give them to him. He will have to marry, marry a woman who can give birth to his heirs. More than that, he wants children, more than anything, and I know that he will love and cherish any child he has. Their mother will be precious to him, and I… I will become just the pet you already called me.' He twisted his mouth bitterly. 'But you… you have born children. I thought that with your magic, you might be able to make a child from me and Harry. Do what I cannot.'

'Bear a child that would not be mine…' Loki whispered.

'I know… It is horrible and stupid and I should have never considered it. I convinced him that you would not mind. It is over anyways, he would never force you… He will hate me as soon as he realizes I was wrong.'

'But you are not.'

Draco whipped around and stared at Loki.

Loki thought of all his dear children. All his beautiful dead and tortured children that suffered because a cursed seer had predicted that one of his children would bring about Ragnarok. He had loved all of them, and he had sworn that he would never bear another child for Odin to destroy, no matter how much it hurt. But this… a child that was not his, that did not carry the curse. A child that he could love and nurture, that he could watch grow up happy and out of Odin's reach. A child that would never draw Odin's attention... 'Will I be precious to him then, if I do this?' he whispered. 'Will I be able to raise this child alongside you, or will you take the child from me as soon as it is born and never have it know me?'

'Of course you can raise it with us, if that is what you want,' Draco said, shocked. He had not thought he would want that, Loki realized, and why should he? Didn't all the stories say that he had abandoned all his children as soon as they were born, let them be banished and tortured and killed?

Draco wrapped his arms around him, and Loki suddenly realized that he was crying.

He had thought he would never have another child again, and now, they offered him this… an opportunity to not only bear one child but many, to have what he had always longed for. Part of him knew that they had planned to use him like a broodmare, and that he should be angry, but he could not be. Not if they gave him such a gift in the guise of cruelty. He felt as if something inside him was breaking, shattering. He could not remember why he had done all the things he had done, as if he was looking at himself from the outside and was seeing a stranger. It was worse than falling into the abyss, because then, at least, his rage had given him a purpose. Now, his memories seemed to devour him until he had nothing left to hold onto.

'I will be your pet, if that is what you wish,' he said, and the thought suddenly felt liberating. He could obliterate the monster that he was; become merely a vessel for his masters. They would contain him, and use him, and make sure that he caused no harm to anyone but himself. In this moment, he longed for that.

Draco rocked him back and forth and hummed slightly. 'Are you sure those manacles aren't messing with you somehow?' he finally asked silently.

Loki wondered if he had spoken his last words aloud.

'No, but I'm a legilimens, and you were not protecting your thoughts at all. Actually, you were projecting them quite strongly.'

Loki flinched back, but Draco kept him in his embrace. 'Shush. I try not to. But the fact remains, what you are thinking reeks of compulsion.'

Loki shook his head and slowly regained control. 'No. It is a part of me I have always tried to suppress. I have always hated…' He stopped.

'You have always hated yourself.' Draco finished. 'That is the real reason why you did all this. Because you think you are a monster, so you might as well act like one.'

'I am a monster,' Loki hissed. 'No matter how you tried to absolve me of my crimes. I have killed, and destroyed, and I relished in it!'

'I know.' Draco wrapped himself around him until he could hardly move. 'Believe me, I know.'


	7. A dream, which was not all a dream

**A dream, which was not all a dream**

Loki woke to the low murmur of voices somewhere above him, which became slowly more distinct as his mind cleared. He caught the words 'compulsion' and 'caution', spoken with a subtle tension, and frowned. He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling above him. It was layered with rectangular, painted tiles, which showed small pictures of angels and mystic creatures drawn in flawless detail. Between them, a blue snake was moving back and forth, circling around the room and moving between its unmoving companions like a streak of water flowing around obstacles. It suddenly dashed forward and curled into a circle above him. ' _He is awake_.'

Someone came closer, and suddenly Potter was staring down at him with a blank intensity. Draco joined him, fretfully. The blond knelt down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. 'How are you?'

'I'm not under any compulsion,' Loki said, 'except for the one that is part of the enslavement spell, the same one that affects all of you.'

Draco froze, his hand suddenly clutching his shoulder painfully. ' _What_?'

'Certainly you are aware that there is a component of the enslavement spell that encourages submission,' Loki said, feeling some glee about it, since they obviously had not known. 'It is nothing artificial, though, it merely encourages tendencies that are already there. I thought you would welcome it, since it makes things here go much more smoothly.'

'I felt some resentment for my own feelings before the spell,' Draco said thoughtfully. 'It would also explain why my father accepted this so easily.'

Loki sat up. He had lain on the cushion Draco had brought him to earlier, and he now felt a subdued anger that had then been overwhelmed by his other feelings. 'I did not really mean what I said before, just so you know,' he said. 'I'm not particularly fond of the idea of becoming a pet; I'm not very submissive in general, actually. Some rare moments being the exception.' Thoughts of his children had always made him more pliant, something Angrboda, Svaldilfari and Sigyn had all noticed and used. He hadn't minded it then, not until later. These moments of weakness had doomed his children, and he had tried to erase this part of himself. He had not succeeded. It had been rash, perhaps, to try so hard to be something he was not.

'Is there a way to remove this compulsion?' Potter asked.

'I could do it easily, but I would not recommend that. It does not force anyone to do anything they don't want, it just makes it easier to give in. Considering that I would normally be very tempted to tear your heart out, an attempt of which would turn out to be immensely painful for me, I welcome it. I imagine there are a number of Death Eaters in your collection who feel the same way.' Loki smirked.

Potter frowned unhappily. 'I promised to do my best to give them their lives back.'

Loki shrugged. He did not care about the human's foolishness. He could see the lines of worry in Potter's face, the true compassion for people who had wronged him. If Loki had been in his place, he would have relished in their humiliation. There were those who thought that this was Potter's motive for claiming the Death Eaters. Loki knew better. It was his righteousness that would not let him accept injustice. He stretched on the cushion like a big cat, then spread his legs and drew Draco into his lap. 'So ask them.'

'I don't want to feel that resentment again,' said Draco. 'I felt it because I was raised to believe that what I crave is wrong. I was happy when I was finally at peace with myself. I always thought it was because you really claimed me, but if the spell was part of it I don't mind.' He put a hand on Potter's knee and smiled. 'Please believe me, Master. I don't want to be at war with myself. I love what I have become, what we have become.'

Potter hesitated for a moment, and put his hand on Draco's. 'What about the others?'

Draco kissed his fingers. 'There were those that choose prison. That wouldn't have happened if the spell compelled us into mindless servitude. I believe those that chose to serve you will feel like I do. Loki is right, Harry. They are more content and safer this way. Would you truly want them to resent this situation for the rest of their lives?'

Loki saw Potter wavering, and had to admire the power the blond wielded over his master. He was quick with words, and more than willing to use Potter's feelings for him to his advantage. He would enjoy his company. In times of old, he thought, men like Draco and his father might have worshipped him. He would have been fond of such devotees.

In the end, Potter nodded, even if it was reluctantly. Another tiny bit of corruption taking seed, Loki thought, trailing his hands over Draco's chest. He could feel the blond's breath quicken and smirked. Potter, too, was distracted by his actions. Could he take Draco's place if he tried? Did he want to try? Potter clearly enjoyed his position of power, and while Loki could play a willing slave to achieve what he wanted, he would never enjoy it like Draco did. Perhaps it would be prudent to wait.

'I was under the impression that you did not want to provide sexual favors,' Potter said, watching his ministrations with, to Loki's amusement, a hint of jealousy.

'I was under the impression that you were not planning to give me a choice,' Loki mocked, kissing Draco's neck.

'That is not true…' Draco said breathlessly. 'I told you yesterday…' He arched towards Loki when his fingers found a particular sensitive spot under his ribcage.

Potter narrowed his eyes. 'I said what I said because I thought that you were merely obstinate. You told me earlier that you were willing to serve me in any way I wished. However, Draco told me that you were genuinely opposed to this kind of service. I would not force you.'

Loki wondered briefly what Draco had told him. He had panicked earlier, mostly because he had not expected it. 'It is a kind of degradation I was not prepared for,' he said contemplatively. 'You surprised me.' There was more to it, of course. He had traded himself before. He had usually enjoyed it. However, that had been before he had known what he really was. It had been before he had been trapped, before Vali's and Narfi's deaths, before Jotunheimr, before the void. He shivered, and Draco sensed it and took his hand, weaving his fingers between his. Loki looked straight at Potter. 'I want the children you can give me.'

Potter blinked, then frowned, studying him with a deep interest that made Loki uncomfortable. 'Can you work that spell without sexual contact?'

Loki started to shake his head, flinched, and pressed his lips together. 'Yes, but I don't want that. It is a different kind of magic. The spell I would prefer requires both of you to fuck me.' He had thought the crudeness would make it easier to say, but it left him trembling.

'You are afraid,' Draco said, turning around to him. 'You want to do this although you are terrified.'

'I'm not afraid!' Loki said angrily. Pain laced through him and he fell back into the cushion and screamed.

Potter was next to him in a heartbeat, taking his head into his lap. 'You should not lie to me,' he said, his voice full of concern.

Loki chuckled bitterly. 'A long time ago, dwarfs sewed my mouth shut claiming I am incapable of telling anything but lies.' He thought how that in a way had been more merciful than forcing him to always tell the truth.

Potter's hands tightened on his shoulders. 'Tell me about that,' he said, rubbing slow circles on Loki's shoulders.

Loki hesitated for a moment, then he started to tell the story how he had made a wager with the dwarfs of Nidavellir for the treasures of the gods, a wager he had lost without truly losing.

'The Aesir did nothing to defend you?' asked Draco, trailing his hand over Loki's arm.

Loki laughed. 'I lost the wager! They caught me when I tried to flee and gave me to Brokk. He would have cut off my head if I had not argued him out of it. They thought I got off lightly, and they made jokes about it for years.' He could not help the bitterness that crept into his voice. They had taken the treasures he had won them all too readily. He had asked Thor once why he had handed him to Brokk, and he had answered in that glib way of his that he had never doubted that Loki would talk himself out of it, and he had, so what was the problem? He had always been proud of having been able to trick the dwarfs, and for a long time he had not thought about everything else that happened, not until Odin showed up to save Thor on Jotunheimr.

He had never truly resented Thor for capturing him and handing him to the dwarf, but then Odin had not thought twice to bend the rules to save his own son. Many things that had happened appeared in a different light once he had realized that not everything in Asgard was measured with the same set of scales.

Draco trailed his fingers over Loki's lips. 'How did you eat?' He sounded both fascinated and horrified, and Loki could feel his fingers probing for scars that were not there.

'Magic,' he said, licking Draco's finger. 'I also learned to perfect illusions to talk through them. As a matter of fact, I mastered those days after it happened, and the Aesir never realized how long it took me to get rid of the thread.' The only one who had known had been Frigga, who had felt his magic, and had helped him search for a solution. In retrospect, Odin had probably known, too, but he had never said anything. Nearly two years, that was how long it had taken him to beat Brokk's magic. He had avoided the Aesir during that time, and had travelled a lot under the pretense of study. They had never questioned it, on the contrary. Thor had once told him that he had been happy that he had been gone, because Sif had still been angry because of her hair, and it would have been difficult if he had stayed. Loki snorted. He had never gotten along with Thor's friends. The idea that Sif's hair was the root of their conflict was typically Thor. Of course Thor had been right in that they had hated him even more because of it, and Thor's childish attempt to force them to get along would have failed even more spectacularly than usual if he had been around directly after the incident. Aside from that, however, he had learned a lot during his travels, not only about dwarf magic, but many other secrets of the realms. In a way, the dwarf had done him a favor. He had been miserable in the first weeks after it happened, but without it he would have never started to pursue his own interests outside of what benefitted the Allfather. Before that incident, he had always been Thor's sidekick, just one more in his merry band of friends, but after he came back from his self-imposed exile he had stopped spending all his time with him and his friends. He had started to research magics Frigga could not teach him.

'You were so daring, so strong…' said Potter. 'What has made you afraid of touch?'

Loki stiffened. 'I'm not afraid of touch,' he croaked. 'I'm afraid of being helpless. Of being… at the mercy of others.'

Potter's arms tightened around him while Draco cuddled closer to him. 'Then it was very brave of you to make this deal with me.'

'I chose you because I trusted you not to exploit it,' Loki said stiffly.

'I understand,' said Potter, kissing the top of his head. 'You can trust me.' He pulled him up. 'Come.'

They led him into an opulent bedroom, which was dominated by a huge four poster. On both sides of the room were doors that likely led to walk-in closets. Potter pulled him down onto the bed and Draco followed. Loki lay down stiffly, but Potter merely spelled his clothing into pajamas, and lay down next to him. Draco curled against him and smiled. 'You will be safe with us,' he said. 'Sleep.'

.

 _Loki struggled against the chains. He was kneeling on a stone floor, but that was all he knew. A hood wrapped tightly around his head, silencing him and blinding and deafening him at the same time. His arms were tied to his back, and the chains wrapping around his legs tightened with his every move and kept his knees spread apart. Further chains curled around his neck and choked him when he tried to rise. He did not know how long he had been in this place. His sons had tried to defend him after Baldur's death, but no-one had believed them when they told them that he was innocent. They had tried to protect him… The last thing he remembered was that Sigyn had fled._

 _Suddenly, something touched him, and he flinched back. A knife cut away his armor, and he heard the muffled sounds of laughter and shouts he could not understand or identify. He struggled, but the chains only cut deeper into his skin and he could not breathe. A liquid was dumped over him, and he felt it run over his naked skin and pool under him. It smelt sweet and metallic, somehow familiar. The laughter increased, and then retreated. He sagged against his chains, exhausted and humiliated._

 _After some time, there was a scratching sound and something blew hot air against his neck. He felt fur pushing against him, and something licked at his skin, closer and closer, then nipped and bit down. He screamed._

'Shush, it's a dream.' Arms wrapped around him and for a few, delirious moments he struggled madly until they released him. 'You were dreaming,' the voice said, and he finally recognized Draco's voice. 'It was a just a nightmare.'

'No,' he whispered, curling into a ball. 'No, it wasn't.'

He remembered it as if it were yesterday. The guards had dumped goat blood on him, hoping that Vali, trapped in his wolf form and starved, would devour him. He almost had, if not for Narfi, who had escaped his own prison and had tried to fight the wolf. When they had removed his hood, he had looked at two children lying dead in front of him, one killed by his brother, one who had killed himself in grief. A week later, Sigyn had returned with proof that it had been Amora who had cursed Hodur's arrow.

Looking back, that was probably the day the last part of him that had truly loved Odin had died. He knew that his father had let it happen, not because he was convinced that Loki had killed Baldur, but because he was afraid of his children. Back then, he had not known why. Odin had never told him about the prophecy, he had found out when he had become acting king of Asgard. The guards who had let Vali roam free had been punished for negligence. When he had demanded their execution, he had been reminded that his boys had defied Odin's orders and had been imprisoned for treason. Sigyn had left him shortly after; she had been unable to understand why he would accept such a verdict.

He had felt that he could not go against his father, that there must be something wrong with him, because all the other Aesir had told him that the Allfather's decision was just and should not be questioned. Deep down, however, he had known that Odin was wrong, and it had influenced his actions ever since.

'Tell us,' Potter whispered in his ear.

Loki closed his eyes. It occurred to him that he had never told anyone his side of the story, that no one had ever asked. Thor had never tried to defend his nephews, although he had been saddened by their loss. He had treated their deaths like _accidents_ , and Loki had never expected him to listen.

Two pairs of eyes were watching him, both concerned in their own way. They complemented each other, he thought. Potter's calm strength drew on Draco's compassion, and Draco's openness relied on Potter's steady support. They made each other what they were. He could see what Draco could have been, if he had denied that part of himself. Less than what he was. It made him wonder if he himself had also become less through his loneliness, which had turned into a conviction that he needed no-one.

He had been different once, more than this bitter, vengeful person he had become. The irony was that he had never wanted power when he was younger; not the power to rule openly. One thing he had never been envious of was Thor's right to the throne. He had been confident that he would influence the fate of the realm as an advisor, behind the scenes. Frigga had encouraged that belief. That had been the main reason why it had frustrated him that Thor never listened to him. It should not have been necessary to resort to trickery to get Thor to follow his advice. Thor should have heeded his advice because Loki was the one who would have been his right hand when he became king. Instead, Thor had been banished and Loki had become king, and he had tried so hard to be what he had always thought Thor should be. He had deluded himself into thinking that he could be a better king than Thor and Odin combined, that he could erase his monstrous origin by being a better Aesir than the both of them. All of his actions afterwards seemed like an attempt to prove that this had not been a spectacular mistake, as if he was unable to stop once he had begun. He had tried to erase his mistakes with even more mistakes, until it was blatantly obvious that he would always fail. It had never been his destiny to become king of Asgard, and he should have known that from the very beginning. He was the god of chaos, after all, and chaos could not rule a kingdom without courting disaster.

He looked at the two men who waited patiently for his answer and wondered if he could become more of himself in this place, or if it would extinguish the last of what he could have been and remake him in something totally other. The thought scared him, but the only choice he had was to move forward. He had spent the last years running from his past and it had led him nowhere. Maybe it was time to face it, and see what change it would bring.

'Odin and Frigga had another son,' he began. 'His name was Baldur, and he was murdered with a cursed arrow.'


	8. Old time shall sound the boding horn

**Old time shall sound the boding horn**

 _Azkaban, a week after Voldemort's death_

Malfoy looked different when Harry visited him in his cell. He had lost weight, his hair was greasy and unkempt, and the prisoner tunic did nothing to hide the dirt and the bruises. Nonetheless he smiled when he saw him. 'I was hoping you would come,' he said.

Harry looked at him, his gaunt appearance, and the chains that seemed much too heavy for his thin wrists and ankles.

'I will get you out of here somehow,' he said. 'You don't deserve this.'

Malfoy's smile turned wry. 'There are many who disagree.' He looked at the door. The warden had left.

Based on his words and the smirk when he said them Harry assumed he expected him to do something else than what he was actually doing, something he was happy to not see. It filled him with disgust, but he was also grateful for it, because it gave them privacy. He stuck his cloak in front of the tiny window, lit the cell with a wandless Lumos, and cast Muffliato for good measure.

'They are wrong.' Harry hesitated. 'I missed you.'

'Did you?' Malfoy studied him. 'You know, that place you gave me the address of? It was not easy to go there unnoticed. I was hoping you would turn up, but you never did. I figured you changed your mind. Still, I thank you. It helped me to keep my sanity in the last few months.'

Harry flinched. 'I wanted to… but I couldn't. I didn't have a moment alone after we escaped from the manor. I found it by accident, and I learned a lot of things there. Things that helped me realize what happened between us… and how much I wanted it.'

Malfoy looked at him thoughtfully. 'I thought you changed your mind, but I had hoped to convince you otherwise. I'm glad I don't have to.' He hesitated. 'We don't have much time,' he said then. 'I have to be blunt. I don't know what you are thinking you can do to get me out of here, but I promise you, you are wrong. My family has dealt in politics as long as I can remember, and there are still enough people willing to take Malfoy gold to let me know what's going on. Your new government is not going to let us go. There won't be fair trials. Maybe if one of your people had become interim minister, but as it is, the ministry is controlled by people who want to erase their own part in history, and they are going to do it by placing the blame on those who obviously deserve it. Some of them are afraid, some of them want revenge, but whatever their motive is, the outcome will be the same.'

Harry shook his head. 'No. There are laws, I'm sure…'

Malfoy laughed. 'Always so naïve, Potter. I don't expect you to believe me now, but when the first people have died, you will realize I'm right. If you want to save us, you will have to do it in a different way.'

'Do you expect me to break you out? You, and your parents too, I assume?' Harry felt himself becoming angry. Malfoy's presumptuousness astonished him. 'You audacious…'

'No.' Malfoy seemed amused by his outrage. 'Trust me, what I hope you will do is entirely within the law.'

Harry faltered, and Malfoy smirked.

'You should have realized that this is what we're truly good at… using the law to our advantage. It was the Dark Lord who insisted on needless violence and mayhem. My father certainly didn't like this way to handle things, and I, as you know, hated it. Why would I start now?'

Harry took a deep breath. 'If we were anywhere else right now…'

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and his smile turned sultry. 'You can do whatever you want with me, even here. The warden certainly expects it. However, this is not the time. I left a chest for you in our manor, in the care of two of my house elves. They will give it to you if you ask for it, and they will help you. I wrote down what I hope you will do – we can't discuss it here – and all I ask is that you consider it. It won't hurt you or anyone else. It will only put you in a position to help when it becomes necessary.'

He had planned ahead it seemed. Harry was not sure what he felt more, anger or admiration. 'Seems you already planned my future for me.'

Malfoy pushed himself to his knees and grabbed his hands. 'I hoped you would be willing to help us, because I know you. You are just, and you are kind. This is your choice, though. You don't have to do any of this if you don't want to.'

'How can you say that?' Harry said bitterly. 'If you are right and you would be hurt because I did nothing I would never forgive myself. You always knew I would have no choice.'

Malfoy's smile disappeared. 'Perhaps. Perhaps this is unfair to you, but I'm desperate. I know you didn't ask to be what you are, but life has placed you in that role. Yes, I'm using it. I'm using you to save myself, and to save my parents. I apologize. But I won't take it back. '

'If I do this, you will owe me.'

Malfoy snorted. 'You already own me, Potter. There is no debt that could change what is already the truth. I never wanted anything so much as I want to be yours. Maybe that's pathetic, but it is the truth. Please believe that.'

Harry gasped and wrapped his fingers in Malfoy's hair. 'Don't say things like that if you don't want me to act on them.'

 _-*read full chapter on AO3*-_

Malfoy's pupils were blown. Harry took him in his arms and stroked his hair. In the past, he had often left him like that without knowing what it meant, and he regretted that now. He had been callous, but to his excuse, he had been ignorant. 'I will help you because I want to,' he whispered. 'I take care of my own. Now, you have to snap out of it, Draco. The warden will be back soon. I'm sorry. I wish we had more time.'

Malfoy smiled, and his eyes slowly cleared. 'You called me Draco.'

'That's your name, isn't it?'

'Quite right. Harry.'

It surprised Harry how much it thrilled him to hear Malfoy – Draco – say his name. Draco leant back against him. 'Soon, we will have all the time in the world.'

'You are very confident your plans will work.'

Draco smiled. 'I am.'

.

When he stepped out of the cell, the seedy warden grinned it him, and Harry wanted to hit him. They walked back to the entrance, and the man never stopped grinning. Harry looked at the wooden doors left and right, and felt rage grow in him. The bars of the old cells had been walled shut after the ministry had found out how Sirius had escaped, and had been replaced by wooden doors with tiny barred windows, and Draco's chains at least had been too short to reach it. That obviously wasn't true for all of the prisoners, because some of them watched them through the bars and cursed them when they walked past.

'Just ignore that scum,' the warden said, obviously thinking his barely hidden disgust was for them. 'They'll all get what's coming to them.'

Harry slowly counted to ten in his head and reminded himself that he had faced far worse things than ministry lackeys. 'Listen,' he said conversationally, 'that prisoner I visited, Draco Malfoy? He is mine. If something happens to him, if someone touches him, or just looks at him in a way that is not one hundred and twenty percent within regulations, and I find out… and I _will_ find out… whoever is responsible will discover why my face was plastered all over Diagon Alley in the last year. Are we clear?'

The warden stared at him. Then his grin turned into something twisted, a mixture of servile fear and admiration. 'Sure, Sir. He is yours, alright. Wouldn't want to be the one to spoil your fun.'

'No, you wouldn't want to be,' Harry said icily, and finally, the grin vanished. The man ducked his head and turned away to hurry quietly along in front of him.

That, Harry thought, had felt surprisingly good. Maybe he should try it more often.

.

The most difficult part of it turned out to be apologizing to the goblins. Draco had insisted that it was necessary, that it was essential to have the support of the goblin nation. They were angry at Harry for breaking into the bank, and it didn't matter one bit why he did it. In the end, it cost him the complete main Black vault and the Ring of Resurrection to earn their forgiveness. Not too bad a deal, he figured, since he kept all of the other Black properties, and he had never cared much for money or vaults. In addition, the ring had kept coming back to him after he had thrown it away, just like the wand. He continued finding it in the most unlikely places, one memorable morning it had been in his breakfast cereal and he had almost choked on it in shock. The goblins had assured him that they knew a way to contain it, and if they could, more power to them. He was happy to be rid of it.

The goblins, on the other hand, were impressed that he was willing to give them such a precious treasure, and it had earned him their forgiveness and respect. They had been willing to help him after that – and Draco had been right, he had needed their help.

In fairytales, the hero who slays the dragon marries the princess, and the shepherd who solves seven riddles earns the kingdom. As it turned out, there is some truth in fairytales when you live in a magical world.

In the muggle world, peerage was determined by heritage. In the wizarding world, things were different. According to the ancient laws Draco had unearthed, titles were determined by power rather than inheritance. Harry had thought Voldemort had called himself Lord out of fancy, but it turned out he had truly been a Lord by wizarding law. He had had sworn followers, and he was considered powerful by most of the wizarding population. The same was of course true for Dumbledore, but he had never openly claimed his title, although he had used its influence in the background to ensure his political power. Harry didn't have sworn followers, as such, but he had been named a champion of the public, and he had defeated a Lord who had been a public adversary, which made him… a Duke, apparently. The highest rank the wizarding world had at the moment. It also allowed him to claim anything and everything Voldemort had ever possessed. Considering that Voldemort had been de facto ruler of wizarding Britain when Harry had defeated him that made the ministry quite unhappy.

They were willing to cut a deal with him, once he mentioned all the things he could, in theory, do. Such as call for new elections. Maybe he had not asked for enough, but Harry was no politician, and he did not really want anything to do with politics. In addition, the public adored the new minister, and likely would have voted for her again. Thus, he had simply done what Draco had suggested, and had ensured that he had an influence on the outcome of the trials, and some sort of immunity. All they had to do was to accept old laws that had not been used in a long time. They did not like it, but really, Harry could not care less. If Draco was right and the ministry was really hell bent on killing Death Eaters no matter their crime, they deserved all the troubles they got. He had not saved their world from Voldemort for this bullshit, and he was too tired to clean up their mess, again. All he wanted to do was live quietly, peacefully, and keep the people he cared about save. As long as he could have that, the rest of the world could go to hell. If he was honest, he wasn't willing to take any chances, but deep down he still believed Draco was wrong. There was a new government. There was a new Wizengamot. Surely, the ministry had learned something in the war? Surely, there would be justice? He would probably never need his new powers.

Unfortunately, his life had never been that easy.


End file.
